


Double or Nothing

by AU Mer-Maid (neonstardust)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Bets & Wagers, Dirty Talk, Don't Let The Tags Fool You This Is Safe For Work, Kinktober 2019, Post Canon - Aged Up Character(s), Post-Canon, Roommates, Swear jar, Wholesome Safe For Work Content In My Kinktober? Heck Yeah, cursing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-13
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2020-12-14 19:08:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21020789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neonstardust/pseuds/AU%20Mer-Maid
Summary: Ennoshita always knew having a roommate would be difficult, but Yahaba and Shirabu take the challenge to new heights.





	Double or Nothing

**Author's Note:**

> Kinktober Day 13 - Prompt: Dirty Talk

_Clink_.

Change rattles inside the jar, clinking against the glass. Shirabu and Yahaba watch with barely constrained fury. Popping the lid off the jar, Ennoshita holds it out as they each drop a hundred-yen coin inside.

“You son of a—”

Ennoshita shakes the jar again, cutting off Shirabu’s threatening growl. “This is a no swearing household,” he reminds him gently.

They withdraw, glares cutting.

“Why’d we move in with him again?” Yahaba mumbles under his breath.

Shirabu follows him into the kitchen. He doesn’t answer, but Ennoshita hears the wet thud of a knife stabbing into an apple.

Setting down the jar, he adds fruits and vegetables to the shopping list on his phone.

It’s a simple cycle. Ennoshita had expected worse things to happen upon getting an apartment with Yahaba, and he’d expected the entire building to be burned down the moment he found out Shirabu was going to the same college as them and needed a place to stay, too.

Yahaba returns with a large pot of tea. Setting it down on the coffee table, he angrily slurps from his cup. Shirabu reappears a moment later with a variety of sliced fruits thrown messily into a bowl.

Ennoshita smiles. Their living arrangements turned out better than he could have anticipated. They’re kind, when they’re not tearing at each other’s throats, and they’re clean, except right after volleyball practice when they collapse on the nearest surface in a pile of sweat and kneepads in need of a wash. When they fall asleep during movie night, one of them curled up on either of Ennoshita’s sides, it’s almost enough to make him forget the early days where Yahaba dyed Shirabu’s hair in his sleep and Shirabu threw him out the window the next morning.

“This tea sucks.”

“You suck.”

“Go suck a d—”

“Ahem.” Ennoshita clears his throat. He looks pointedly at the swear jar on the table.

Slumping down on the couch, Shirabu mumbles, “...Egg.” Yahaba snickers behind his hand, and Shirabu kicks him.

As Ennoshita watches Yahaba elbow him, he regrets the discontinuation of the violence jar.

“We should be allowed to curse,” Shirabu says. Balancing the bowl on his knee, he plucks out all of the strawberries, neatly shoving the watermelon cubes to the side for Yahaba to steal. “We are grown men.”

Yahaba side eyes him. “You are very short to be calling yourself grown.”

“You are _one damn centimeter_ taller, you beanpole mother—”

Grabbing the swear jar, Ennoshita pushes it into his face before Shirabu can curse his way into debt. His lip curls up in a sneer, but he slams another coin into the jar. “You, sir, are a…” He bites his lip and takes a deep breath. “Corn muffin.”

Yahaba snorts. Scooting closer to him, he finishes off the last of the watermelon. “We can’t curse,” he says, licking juice off his fingers. “It’s bad for the baby.”

“What baby?” Ennoshita asks.

Yahaba points at Shirabu. “The angry one.” Selecting a particularly large slice of apple, Shirabu stuffs it into Yahaba’s mouth.

Ennoshita shakes his head. “I wouldn’t have to use this jar so much if you two stopped antagonizing each other.”

“Yeah right.” Shirabu rolls his eyes. “He curses every time we run out of cookies.”

“Which is far too often,” Yahaba adds. “But at least I don’t drop the f-bomb every morning my alarm clock goes off.” He elbows Shirabu, who elbows him back harder. Ennoshita quickly moves between them before they can cause any first aide kit worthy injuries for the third time that week.

“You’re honestly wasting your time at this point.” Yahaba slings an arm around Ennoshita’s neck, the other stretched out across the back of the couch. “I bet Shirabu can’t go one week without any dirty talk.”

Shirabu pretends to stretch, but Ennoshita catches him flipping Yahaba off out of the corner of his eye.

Yahaba has a point. They’re both tough people to work with, and, even if Yahaba won’t admit it, they’re equally proud and stubborn. It would be too optimistic to hope he could stop their cursing entirely, but it would still be nice to eliminate the continuous use of profanity every time Shirabu washed the dishes or Yahaba lost his shoes.

In the end, it’s their pride he’s counting on.

“I think Shirabu will surprise you,” he says.

“With a knife?” Yahaba deadpans. On the other side of the couch, Shirabu winks.

Ennoshita ignores them. “I bet you both can go one full week without cursing.”

“And if we do?” Shirabu asks, sitting up.

“Hmm.” Ennoshita shakes the swear jar, watching the coins rattle around inside. “I’ll give all the money in here to the person who wins.”

Now, Yahaba sits up, too. “And if we both win?”

Ennoshita shrugs. “You split it. It’ll be like you never lost anything.” It’s not entirely true. Ennoshita empties the jar out regularly for grocery money, but it’s already become full enough again to entice them into the deal anyway.

Shirabu’s eyes narrow with suspicion. “What if we curse?”

Yahaba smirks. “I say the loser should do all the chores for a month.”

“Oh, you’re on.” Shirabu stands. “You’re going down.”

“Uh huh. Save it for all the dishes you’re gonna have to wash.”

Ennoshita taps his cheek with his finger. “You’re assuming only one of you will lose.”

Yahaba gasps. “Ennoshita, you said you had faith in us.”

“I do.” Ennoshita sips his tea. “Just like I had faith you wouldn’t lose your last match.”

“Now listen,” Shirabu growls.

Yahaba stands. “That was low. Even for you.”

“Sorry.” Setting down his teacup, Ennoshita holds up his hands in surrender. “I’m sure you’ll win the next one.”

“You’re damn right we will,” Yahaba says, stuffing a coin into the swear jar. “This bet starts first thing tomorrow. Now, what’s the punishment if we both lose?”

“Oh?” Ennoshita smiles, watching as they both back away from him in fear. “Don’t worry. You’ll find out next week.”

**Author's Note:**

> One week later:
> 
> "I hate this," Shirabu mumbles. "I hate _him_."
> 
> Yahaba nods. "We'll get him back for this."
> 
> Fingers tangled together, they both turn back to the movie theater screen to finish their punishment date. Silence settles bettwen them.
> 
> Shirabu leans his head on Yahaba's shoulder. "Wanna get ice cream after this?"
> 
> "I thought you'd never ask."


End file.
